Underland Macabre
by blackace20
Summary: A collection of horror, twisted, odd, and offbeat Underland tales. Rated T for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1

**Underland Macabre**

The gruesome, strange, twisted, and somewhat offbeat collection of Underland tales

**Table of contents**

Chapter 2: _What Creeps in Fage_

Chapter 3: _Where Gods Sleep _(under construction)

Chapter 4: _Rats in the Cellar _(under construction)

**A Cliché Intro**

This is a collection of mostly horrific and odd tales dreamed up by me, many of which are alternate fiction of the Underland and many of which will contain recurring elements. This has a good chance to be my best or worst work. This also has a chance to be my last fanfic for the Underland Chronicles section, yet might not be. Criticism is encouraged, and ideas for this story can be suggested as a comment.

Last thing, these stories could differ in rating, so look for a rating in an author's note before each tale if you care what the rating is.


	2. What Creeps in Fage

**What Creeps in Fage **

_Inspired by H. P. Lovecraft's The Dunwich Horror_

**RATING IS T **

**Alright, this is the first Underland Macabre story. This follows Underland history and takes place in a small farming community a good twenty minutes away from The Fount called Fage. Foserii is a young adult and is a worker on his grandfather's farm, secluded from most of the village by rows of a type of grain. **

The gas lights hung above casting a dim incandescent glow on the ground where I stood, making my shadow distorted with gnarled edges, almost like a demon. The positions of the lamps were positioned so perfectly away that only the faintest beams actually reached where I stood. I gazed vacantly at the waves of grain that seemed to crash on my farm house and barn.

A Low, almost gargle, echoed to the side of me. "Quiet down, Orion. We'll get those packs down after we finish our trip," I responded to a nearby gray colored flier.

Poor old bastard, how troubled Orion is. Or better said how troubled my Grandfather made him. Orion was a reject, and my grandfather need some help around the farm after our old flier died. Orion thought he found the escape he needed, yet my grandfather cut out his tongue and virtually enslaved him. Around here in Fage, humans don't care much about stuff like that, and the fliers just keep quiet about too.

"Foserii! Are ya' ready to go 'cause the note said the sooner we get this special cargo th' better."

That was my grandfather, over all a slightly unstable character who word to him is the word of god. Whatever he does, you better go along with.

"Yes, grandfather, we can go now," I said to him and got mounted on Orion.

"Poor thing Horace ha' teh go and kill those trouble makin' children who live in town. They kind of deserved it though, with messin' with his crops and such. Well, justice served both ways since Horace got hanged."

I felt weight shift to the back of Orion as Grandfather got on him. Orion let out a disgruntle moan and Grandfather kicked him and lashed out at him with a slur or curses.

After the abuse we took off in an awkward style of flight where Orion beat his wings so fast like a crawler using his. The seas of wheat stretched on endlessly in each direction, it would be easy to get lost in our rows if we didn't have a flier. Eventually we made it to the smoke ridden roof tops of the main part of Fage. A little further and we made it to d decrepit hound surrounded by a desolate field that appeared to once support a crop. Orion coasted to a landing just outside the front steps, soiling his stomach with clods of dirt as a flurry a filth rained down.

"Okay, I believes tha' the note said to go to the guest room and pick up this here 'special cargo.' Still gots no idea what it is, the notes not very," and with butchering the pronunciation Grandfather went on, "specific."

"But Horace has three guest rooms-" I innocently pointed out, though Grandfather cut me off saying,

"I knows that! 'Kay then, you check them back ones and I'll check th' front."

The discolored stone steps leading to the door had crumbled into ruins, I jumped over them concerned it wouldn't support my weight. I wanted to give Grandfather help up, but he would certainly resist. Standing on the porch I stared at the gaping hole where a door more than likely once was. It was probably ripped off during the raid to capture Horace.

I stepped inside, nearly gasping at the scene before me. Everywhere you looked you could see upturned furniture with fabrics and chair legs just sundered from where they once were. Farm tools and anything else sharp were on the floor or jutting out the side of the stone walls. The musty smell of dried blood wafted around and especially piquant around the dark red blotches that I could see. I knew Horace probably resisted arrest of the local militia, but this is further than I expected him to go.

From behind me I heard Grandfather chuckle about the scene and finally say, "Oh, ole' Horace. Even from th' grave you are hilarious."

In a more serious tone Grandfather told me, "Okay boy, get a move on. You know th' plan so GET SEARCHIN'!"

The outburst made me move quickly and falter my way out of the room and towards the guest bedrooms. It's Just another reason why Grandfather was unstable.

A narrow hallway came into view with a low overhanging ceiling. I began to trudge towards it, my head eyeing the steady beat of my feet. A little ways in the hall an overwhelming since of malice fell over me. The further I got into the hall the more a since of malice fell on me. Eventually it was so bad it was choking and strangling me so I could swear I couldn't breathe.

Almost before my eyes the environment turned hellish and grim. The feeling of animus floated around me while a swirl of mist seemed to envelop me at my ankles. I could feel my hand clutch my throat. I fell on my knees gagging and coughing, my eyes burning as the feeling of scourge spread.

_There!_ A distinct sound of a body hitting the ground in a sprint echoed behind me. The sound of twirling fur spun past my ear. I could tell I was on the gallows and this beast was my executioner. _Stark killer, strike me fast!_Slowly the atmosphere darkened as I felt pressure approaching my back. Finally the tap of a hand bumped on my shoulder blade.

"Th' hell are you doing, Foserii! One minute I'm searchin' for the 'cargo' the next I find ya' on the ground in some sorta panic attack. Are you alright?"

The vaguely lit hall came back into sight. I turned to face grandfather and responded with, "Oh, I'm alright Grandfather, just… you know, right?"

Grandfather eyed me over quizzically and gawked, "No I don't know, son. Mind tellin' me in more detail?"

I just shook my head and let out a sigh. That eerie encounter still seemed to linger over me like the shadow stalking me right now. "By the way, did you that cargo?"

Grandfather let out something between a squawk and a laugh and a yelp even mixed in there. "Wow, when Horace wrote that the cargo would be obvious he sure was right."

My eyes finally fell on a small bundle draped in a white cloth. It seemed to shake slowly almost as though what was in it was… alive. Realizing what I was staring at, Grandfather held it out. "You see this; I still can't realize why Horace of all people had something as odd as this." Grandfather leaned forward nearly pressing his lips to my ear. He tensed his lips almost anticipating what he said was so important it needed a dramatic pause. Finally he whispered in a rough and faint voice, "A gnawer, It's a baby gnawer, Foserii. And it's a special one alright."

A gnawer? What could Horace be doing with a gnawer? Was he planning on doing something similar with the gnawer as we did with Orion?

Obviously me thoughts were being expressed on my face because Grandfather simply said, "I don't know, son. The note probably would have explained all those god damned other details if it wasn't goin' to be looked over by th' town militia."

I didn't respond to Grandfather, after that frightful occurrence I didn't exactly want to chat, just get my distance from this place.

The slow pace Grandfather and I marched out seemed derisory at my current objective. I stepped out first and let out a quiet prayer, yet I still didn't feel safe. Orion let out a coarse whine; he was enjoying his rest and wasn't looking forward to carrying this supposed 'heavy cargo.'

I didn't want to tell Orion what we had with us. He fought in the War of Time which made him not particularly fond of gnawers. Even though they were supposedly our 'allies,' I could still see the distrust in his eyes when one of the furry devils walked by. "It's alright, Orion. What we're carrying isn't a bother to lift. It's just it is… it's umm, it's a-"

"It's a gnawer!! And WHOOIE it's a special one!" My Grandfather shouted with great excitement. "Horace wants us to raise it I reckon, and by how special it is I guess I'll have to." This only deepened Orion's scowl.

"Yes, Grandfather. The gnawer is special, now let's take flight and get away from here!" Towards the end of my sentence my voice raised and showed my fear, I hope Grandfather hadn't suspected anything. I just walked over, mounted on Orion, the patted Orion's rump, and pretended nothing happened. Grandfather gave me a puzzled look but then just walked over sat down. Finally, we took off and we were out of there.

As we arrived to our farm I could hear Grandfather mumble to the bundle in his arms and reach his hand in as if to caress it. Something was certainly 'special' about that gnawer if Grandfather was already paying that much attention to it. I scratched my forehead thinking about why it was so special when all of the sudden a horrible thought came over me. _Was this gnawer why I was filled with dread?!_

Grandfather dismounted Orion and instantly snapped at me, "Foserii, I'm gonna put this thing in the food storage barn. It's large and no real important thing in it. What da' ya' think about that?"

I nodded my head silently in agreement. _Was he obsessed with this thing?_

"Okay then, I'll get this fellow situated and you go fetch one, scratch that, two pales of the high quality grain. He'll like that," and with a tickling motion on the gnawer wrapped in the cloth he finished with, "like that."

I ran out to our grain storage with two buckets and filled them brimming to the top with grain. This was the average grain, yet Grandfather was too concerned with smothering the damned thing he wouldn't notice. I walked over to the food storage barn gingerly placing my feet so I wouldn't spill any of the grain. Grandfather was eyeing me over carefully with weariness tearing at the corners of his eyes. I placed down a bucket and went to grab the barn door when all of the sudden Grandfather's hand slapped my wrist.

"Foserii, no! Heed me and don't go in there from now on."

"But I was just going to feed the gnaw-"

"Foserii!"

"Wha-"

"Just let me feed the gnawer, okay? You just tend to any of your unfinished business then go to bed. Now scram!!"

I backed off and stared at Grandfather as he disappeared into the concealment of the barns inside. The only thing going through my mind right now was how odd Grandfather was acting.

The following few days were just as strange as that one, filled with Grandfather disappearing into the barn and leaving me to tend with the fields and animals. After awhile Grandfather finally approached me with a task, though it certainly was an odd one.

"Foserii, I have something I want you to do for me," Grandfather said in a begrudged near whisper voice. He raised his eyes and looked me dead on.

At first I was just overjoyed he was at least making contact with me. We hadn't had a verbal encounter this long for awhile. "What is it, Grandfather?" I asked innocently.

He puffed a breath and told me, "Gnawers like dim surroundings. It's too bright with those four lights up and 'round us. Take up Orion and knock them out for him."

Too stunned by what he said to said comprehend fully I just mouthed, "What?"

"You heard me, Foserii. The Gnawer is getting' aggregated by those damned lights so knock them OUT!!"

"But Grandfather, the rays of the lights barely reach us anyway. Why should we knock them out for a useless gnawer when that would also put a hamper on us?"

"Do what I told you, Foserii!"

I simply trudged off to prepare Orion and a sword from the house. This was certainly too far for a stupid gnawer.

Up in the air Orion and I approached the gas lamp directly northwest of us. The florescence of the light burned my eyes causing me to not want to look directly into it. I quickly asked myself; _do I really want to do this?_

_Of course I do!! He gives me food and shelter when my parents simply gave up on me. I need to help him. _I raised my blade over my shoulder and prepared for a slice. I squinted my eyes then swung the blade.

As the blade made contact with the lamp a cascade of flames fell down landing on Orion and me leaving scorching red welts all over our skin. The lamp fell perfectly in an area where it was cleared. If it had landed in the grain, the dry stuff would've combusted. I inspected the welts quietly and prodded one with my pointer finger. Even though I touched it tenderly it stung like hell. I wanted to let out a cry, but I didn't because I knew Grandfather was looking. I looked around me at the other lanterns and thought, _one down, three to go._

One day while I was tending to the animals I saw massive gnawer tracks coming from the chicken coop. I studied them carefully and confirmed that they couldn't be our gnawer's. He was so young and simply couldn't be that large. We had been feeding him quite a bit, yet still those were the size of what a large full grown male gnawer's prints would look like.

I stepped inside the coop and silently counted the chickens. I came up two short, so I counted again. I got the same answer, so it came up conclusive that the gnawer had taken two. I located my Grandfather surprisingly near the food storage barn to tell him the news.

Grandfather distorted his face and replied, "Well, that makes sense."

"What?" I asked.

Grandfather growled, "That makes sense 'cause I guided him to th' coop while you were sleeping to pick out two. A gnawer needs meat, right?"

My eyes gaped wide and I slowly said, "He's that big?"

Grandfather chuckled and uttered and a comical voice, "Yep, he sure is a big boy, ain't he?"

I just walked off, not sure if I was more disturbed by that Grandfather let the gnawer eat our chickens or that the gnawer is that massive for its age. From behind me I heard Grandfather holler, "And you can expect some missin' cattle tomorrow, too!"

I just quickened my pace at those words

Days continued with the animals disappearing and the gnawer prints only getting bigger. I started finding prints all over the farm and the fields which made me believe that it was _exploring._ And as the days kept rolling on, our supply of livestock vanished.

One day I woke up and checked on the livestock and something came unsubtly apparent, we couldn't finically afford the loss of anymore animals. I brought the news to Grandfather, who just simply handed over a bag full of coins. "Walk due east of here and you'll arrive in Fage, buy all th' livestock ya' can afford this stash. Live animals are more pleasing… to the gnawers."

"Walk? Why don't I just take Orion into town?" I asked, trying not to show any alarm for what he just said.

In a hoarse voice he squawked, "Orion served a new duty, Foserii. I wouldn't expect to see him… anymore."

_Did that bastard just tell me Orion was fed to that god forsaken gnawer?! Orion was a flier!! What monster could do that?! _ I felt a small trickle as a tear dripped out of my eye. I had known Orion for a good two years, and even though he purely despised my Grandfather, we were friends. If it wasn't for me Orion would have either died here of overwork and starvation or died somewhere if he decided to escape because of his disabilities.

With soaked eyes and my head down, I grabbed the sack and stalked away into the fields of grain, to scornful to look the beast in the eyes.

I grasped the sack of poultry in my left hand and threw the empty money back onto the stone floor of Fage's town square. With a quick sprint I ran over and bashed the bag with the heel of my sandal. _Once for neglecting me, _I slammed my heel in another time, _twice for condemning Orion, _I came down for one final blow that ripped a nice size hole through the firmly woven fabrics. _And a third time for the gnawer you worship! _I glared at the ruined sack, happy I had taken my rage out on it in a quick tantrum. _Ha, Grandfather .The gnawer is your god. You're just the cultist who brings your false divinity the tributes. Overall, you are his nothing._

I began to walk off when I heard a voice call, "Hey, Foserii!"

I turned around to see Carter Dehlomme, a stout, young farmer and leader of the town militia. He was about late twenties, early thirties, though he probably was still at the youngest seven years older than me.

"Carter, it's been awhile. How are you doing?" I replied with a friendly tone.

"Well, I'm alright. Not exactly alright, I mean… I have just a minor problem."

"What?" I asked. I had a problem, yet it was related to my Grandfather and his obsession with the gnawer, so I probably know how he feels right now.

"Well it's so damn strange. It's like my livestock are just being preyed on by some predator. I've lost two of my steers and a whole mess of chicken."

"No, seriously?" I asked as if I was puzzled by what he said. I really did not like where this was going, because it seemed to be linked to my problem.

"Yes, and that's not all. Other people are missing their livestock too. Some people have even reported gnawer tracks."

"How big?" I asked nervously. I really did not like where this was going now.

"Gargantuan! They're the biggest I've ever seen! And livestock aren't the only thing that's been missing. Barton, the owner of the tavern at the south side of the town, has been missing for awhile. So has Beatrice the seamstress, Clinton the bard, Nyx who was bonded to my brother Gail, half of the Barkfield family, and all of the Lansford clan! And that's not all, no. There are more I just can't think of right now."

This was grisly and lurid. Grandfather was now going so far as not just feeding the gnawer Orion, but other livestock, fliers and even humans. I could just see the furry beast hunched over the rotting carcass of one of the victims and ravaging their body for strips of meat. That made shudder. "You know what…" I started hesitantly, "You know what, I've been finding gnawer tracks by my property, too."

Carter lowered his voice to a whisper and told me, "Than you better keep an eye out because you could fall to it next. Be scared, because that will keep you aware."

I was more scared then what Carter was thinking, but not exactly for the same reason Carter was thinking.

As soon as I arrived home I simply dropped the poultry and ran to the barn stealthily, keeping an eye out for Grandfather because he would be furious if he saw me enter the barn. I just wanted to see this gnawer and how big it actually was or how 'special' it was. I fingered at the door for a little bit trying to gather my courage. Finally I let out a sigh and entered the barn.

The first thing I saw was that it was so incredibly dark. Even though we no longer had the overhead lamps Grandfather had at least surrounded our house with torches. But in here it was pure black, and that sense of dread from Horace's house was very much alive in here. The only real thing I could see was a pitchfork propped up against the barn wall, which I grabbed. The next thing I saw was the random assortment of bones just scattered all over the barn floor. No, it just wasn't chicken bones or cattle bones; I saw human bones and, poor Orion, flier bones. My suspicion was right; he had been feeding it… _humans._

Finally I looked up to try and locate the creature. I saw nothing until I came across an odd titian glowing light almost twenty feet up in the air. I looked up and distinguished, with a gulp, an iris and a… pupil. That meant what I was looking at was its… _eyes. _

I took off for the door and heard the pursuit of heavy feet following behind. I got through the door and closed it shut, hoping it wouldn't realize even though was too large for the door, it could easily break out of the barn. I stood supporting myself on the barn wheezing to slow my breath, just glad to be out of the barn, until I saw Grandfather walk up.

"Hey Foserii, you come back wit' th'-" Grandfather's eyes fell on the structure behind me and his seemingly happy face turned into a lour.

"You were in the barn?" Grandfather growled. "YOU WERE IN THE BARN!?!" Grandfather blustered at me much louder now with his pale face turning red with disgust. "How many times did I tell you not to go in the barn?! HOW MANY!?! Yet, you went in anyways, didn't you?!"

"Y-yes, Grandfather." I whimpered and pressed my back up against the barn door.

"Of course, YOU WENT IN ANYWAYS!! Scram, I don't even want to see your face. Run, disappear into the grain and never come back!"

I was too scared to think straight so I just did what he said and ran away, deep into the grain, the pitchfork still clutched in my hand. When I was sure I was far enough from the barn I crouched down, sobbing with remorse of going into of the barn and fear of what lurked inside it.

I gave into time, just twiddling my fingers and estimating how much longer my Grandfather would be irrational and how much time it would take for me to cool down. Eventually I thought it had been long enough and followed the trail of snapped grain stocks back.

As soon as I arrived back at the farm I noticed how eerily silent it was, so sullen and awkward considering ho there always was some sort of noise. The dead stillness was also apparent because I couldn't see even the littlest movement. I called Grandfather's name, fearing he would still be angry, yet I heard nothing. I tried again, but still that unnerving silence was unbroken. I had the worst feeling that I would find the answer to this odd silence in the barn. I tightened my grip on the pitchfork and creaked open the door.

At first it was just as quiet and still in the barn as it was outside. I couldn't even find the titian glowing eyes I had seen earlier. The silence was broken however when something dropped to the floor with a thud. I stared at it then it registered to me that it was the shredded cadaver that was once my grandfather. In the background I heard a low rumble, and a charge of large clawed feet. I clawed open the, but this time kept running.

The sound of the creature bursting out of the barn rang through my ears and also the roar of triumph as it broke free. At the moment I was so much in a panic that I didn't think right so headed east, straight for Fage with that creature hot on my trail. I spent no time finding low points or gaps in between the grain and just cut through any stock in my path. The heavy sound of its feet beat in a rhythm that went _thump THUMP thump THUMP thump THUMP _blazed behind me. It was catching up, and I need to think of something fast. The silhouette of Fage came into view, further pressuring my decision. Finally I turned around and glanced at the beast. It was thirty, twenty-five meters away. I looked down at my pitchfork and up fifteen yards away. Above I could see my last hope, a lantern that swayed slowly back and forth. I needed to try and hit it with the pitchfork so it could ignite the grain, burn the creature, and hopefully be far enough away for me to dive out of the grain. The ceiling of the earth was low hanging here, but it still was a stretch to make in one shot and not much time to prepare. I took a few running steps then let the object sail from my hands.

_Thwak! _The pitchfork perfectly severed the lantern so it fell on the ground. I saw sparks dance around at the gnawer's feet and suddenly a small fire. The monster grew worried and began to stomp at it with its foot. The fire rapidly grew larger and larger until it was a full on inferno. I dove out of the grain just in time so that the fire only licked the edge of my leggings. I saw the creature began to catch ablaze and then collapse under the fire. It let out a blood curdling that slowly died away. I knew it was dead and just rested my chin in my rough hands and watched the fire burn as a growing numbers of curious villagers encircled me.

"Well, I think the fire finally died out," announced Carter. He and a few other militia men had listened to my story and the regular villagers listened to other villagers who were close enough to hear me talk.

I just nodded my head and looked at the ashy field that was once Grandfather's grain fields. Overnight word had also spread from men on fliers to that capital and now even some of the queen's men had came and learned of the story.

"Uh, sir. We would like you to accompany us to the body of the beast," said one of the queen's officials.

"Alright," was all I could respond then shook off some of the blankets the villagers gave to me and got to my feet.

I walked side by side with Carter and the officials as we approached the dusty and charred body where the gnawer once stood. A tall and lanky official drew his sword and sunk it into the beast. Nothing happened. Satisfied, the official went over and dusted some of the ash off its fur. What was revealed made Carter gasp and the officials stare in disbelief.

All of my questions just got answered. Why it was so big, why it had grown so fast, why Grandfather called it special and why he had also worshipped it and nearly forgot about the real world and the rest of reality.

It had white fur.


End file.
